Adduné - the Vampire's Game (80 page)

“
But how can you be so sure there won’t be more?”

Stroker sat on the edge of the bed – jacket off and finishing off a heavy brunch. He was starving from the work put in last night. They chose Miranda’s bedroom to refuel and improvise strategies. The atmosphere was charged and tense. They were both under inordinate stress and pressure that most would have buckled under. Neither Stroker nor Miranda was willing to give in to human frailties. You couldn’t when dealing with creatures that were no longer hampered by these foibles.

“
It doesn’t seem likely. They deliberately keep their numbers low, unless otherwise needed. It doesn’t seem they would be able to anticipate this turn of affairs.”

“
But … there was a murder! Rather dreadful. I remember Jake talking about it at the opening!”

“
A murder?”

“
Oh, wait! Jake said the victim had been torn to bits. Doubt that whoever it was could be helping them.”

“
Please understand, I’m not dismissing your point entirely. We should be on guard for all eventualities. We need to not relax and be vigilant. It’s just I believe that we have already eliminated who Peter was relying upon.”

“
You mean Rachel?”

“
Exactly, Mademoiselle. He couldn’t possibly have anticipated anything happening to Rachel as he was expecting only to face you. It’s why I insisted that we do this alone. I could have engaged one of the men that helped me last night, but resisted. They could not be relied on to handle meeting the undead. You have been tested by fire. Plus you have the added benefit of having strong motivation to keep you steady. Money is not enough to keep nerves from becoming frayed upon meeting such loathsome of creatures. Even the bravest crumble under such circumstances.”

“
You’re right! About everything! I will try to keep my wits. No more dotty Miranda. I’ll stay wide awake because I know what we’re battling and how important it is that we succeed.”

“
Good.”

“
But what about my brother?”

“
I know what you told me in the plane. I’m still not sure if he was actually bitten or it was part of the hallucination – especially since he may well have been intimately involved with that accursed Rachel. I’ll only know after I see the body. If he was bitten, well, you know what I have to do.”

“
Yes, I know – unfortunately. It’s horrible what they did to him, but I will have my satisfaction. And my barrister … he’s taken ill. I don’t know Peter had anything to do with his illness, but if he did … ”

“
It’s very possible he collapsed from mental strain. Vampires psychically rob you of your resources. I don’t think they got to him other than that way so I think he’ll be fine. Remember that Peter was in Europe before coming here. You arranged for his transport so he had access to Reginald – and to draining him of his energy. You also. It’s why you had that dream on the plane – because you’d been in contact.”

“
I’d forgotten about that! And he did meet with Reginald. Funny, he thought it was a dream.”

“
What? When did all this happen?”

“
The dream? Before I left England. Reginald was the first to warn me about that name Adduné. You know, if you rearrange the letters it spells
undead
.

Stroker paused thinking. “You’re right, Mademoiselle. How did you ever figure that out?”

“
I didn’t,” Miranda interrupted. “Tiffany did. And Tiffany tried to tell me to stay away from him, but I didn’t listen! There was something else though. Tiffany said she didn’t see him in a mirror – at that club. The thing is, that I did … see his reflection in the mirror. Why is that?”

“
Because of their minds. As we are discussing, they can induce visions. Obviously, at the time, it was for that murderer’s benefit to have you believe he was human.”

“
I see. I should have listened to her. She was so certain and … I was … Oh, Tiffany! How I miss her already?”

“
I know, I know, but it is for her we are doing this.”

“
Yes, for everyone. And I did feel his presence at Weatherly. It’s what was making me so jumpy. If I had only known! That stupid collection! I should have burned the place down and that blasted coffin with it! Damn Pinckus for going along with his plans.”

“
I doubt it was much his doing as it was Peter preying on his mental faculties, inducing thoughts.”

“
I think
seducer
would be more apt,” Miranda ruefully recalled. “Are you sure about the time? Will there be enough daylight?”

“
Yes, two hours of light. I checked the time listed for sunset in the local paper.”

“
But Peter said that they could be active during the day. And I know it’s true because he did visit me during the day.”

“
As I told you before, they are not at full power.”

“
Yes, that’s right. You did say that. I can well imagine why he didn’t tell me that bit! I’m sorry, I’m a little befuddled right now.”

“
Well, you cannot be, Mademoiselle,” Stroker said putting down his knife and fork and wiping his mouth with the hotel napkin. “Do what you need to do to pull yourself together and stop trying to search for loopholes. I’ve thought of everything and I have years more experience in this than you.”

Miranda realized that he was correct. She was again trying to take control by shooting holes in the plan. She should just acquiesce and go along. He needed an ally and not an adversary. And the devil already had way too many advocates. The second guessing needed to stop. She would relinquish control to Stroker – the veteran that knew all about handling situations they were about to encounter. He was a shining star that she needed to follow. She needed to stop trying to lead.

“
Now I suggest you take a nap. I will wake you. You need to be sharp and so do I.”

“
But what about you?”

“
I’ll be fine,” he said putting his emptied plate on the service cart. “Besides somebody needs to stay awake and be your eyes and ears. Now get some rest. I’ll be right outside going over my plans. They need to be precise. There is no margin for error.”

Stroker pushed the cart, directing it to his adjoining room. Miranda stood stretching and letting out a yawn. She threw back the comforter and crawled under the covers reciting what she had memorized by heart.

“
Holy water, cross on the forehead, and then the stake through the heart,” she recited by rote. “You will still let me do it, won’t you?”

Stroker stopped at the bedroom door. His hand was on the doorknob.

“
We shall see, Mademoiselle. We shall see,” he said as he slowly closed the door letting Miranda drift off into a sound slumber.

CHAPTER 42

Miranda’s dreams were a tumultuous swirl of bits and pieces of the horrors experienced during the past few months. Her father, Peter, Rachel, Tiffany, Reginald, Jake, and Chase all combined into a ghastly nightmare that she was grateful to escape.

Stroker delivered on the promise and gently shook her awake. It had taken awhile for her to come around, but when she did, she remembered why they’d come to Fairfield. She braced herself against the odds they were facing. She braced her nerves and headed for the shower to purify herself for battle.

When they both had readied, they went over the plan one more time – checking timing and actions. Miranda had everything memorized. There could be no mistakes and so she reverted to her old self. The self that caused her father to put complete faith in her handling the business. She needed to call forth that stalwart side she’d inherited from him and follow this through. She couldn’t allow her fear to trap her into passivity. And she couldn’t just left things slide. Peter would come after her, and her mother. He would destroy what remained of her family and friends. She couldn’t bear thinking that she’d cause her mother’s demise through a reluctance to see things through. She was afraid, but she wouldn’t allow that to stop her. She’d use her fear to bring things to a swift and final conclusion.

Miranda drove – Stroker sitting reassuringly by her side. His bag was centered in his lap – his hand never straying from it. She trusted him. He was good at details – smart. If there was one person in the world that she could depend on to make sure things went her way, it was Stroker. He was a prince – a knight in shining armor that had been sent to help her slay the dragon consuming all with his fire.

She tried to concentrate on the road, but her thoughts were making it difficult. She was getting ahead of herself, and she needed to stop. She checked her appearance in the rearview mirror for it fitted in with the plan. Her hair was down, loosely falling to her shoulders. She’d styled it almost identically to the way Theresa wore hers. That meant blowing out most of the curl. Luckily, her coloring was remarkably similar so no coloring agent was needed to be used as camouflage. Miranda’s hair being down provided another advantage – it obscured her facial features.

They’d thought things through – even working out how to hide the 20 pound weight differential that existed between the two women. Miranda solved that problem by wearing two extra sweaters under her jacket. While they doubted anyone would pay close attention to the image on the security camera, they had to take all precautions. They were sure a close approximation of Theresa’s likeness would suffice and not raise alarms. After all, no one at Fairfield was expecting trouble. They didn’t know the museum was sheltering at least one vampire. They’d just think Theresa came to tidy up and work off some grief. While she wasn’t accustomed to coming in afterhours, grief drove people to act outside the norm.

Miranda slid in the purloined keycard. The door clicked open. She entered and ran up the stairs. She headed straight to Theresa’s desk and started leafing through papers on her desk. She opened the middle drawer and found the spare set of keys that Jake had entrusted her with. She knew that Rachel couldn’t have thought of everything. She’d been overconfident and sloppy. She was glad to know vampires weren’t as smart as they seemed to think they were – she found out last night that they made mistakes.

She shoved the keys into her pants pocket and pretended to look busy until precisely 7:30 PM. As soon as the digital clock hit that hour, she got up from Theresa’s desk. She took a quick tour around – checking both the men’s and ladies’ rooms. There was no one there. The museum was emptied of employees. Jake had mentioned several times that the museum frowned on paying overtime and that the employee’s enthusiastically went along with the adherence to regular hours.

She walked to the freight entrance. She opened it using Theresa’s card. Stroker was waiting, holding a large crate that hid his face. He walked behind her knowing what he had to do.

“
Is there anyone here?”

“
Not that I’ve seen.”

“
Good. We only need to get downstairs anyway.”

Stroker followed Miranda to the staircase. He wore a baseball cap low on his brow to cover his face. It wasn’t unusual for packages and shipments to be brought into the basement. It wouldn’t cause suspicion. When they reached the basement, they stopped at an errant sound.

“
Shh!” Stroker admonished.

They stood still, listening for more noises that indicated they were not alone. There were none – just the stony silence of an occupied building. Stroker put down the crate and opened the lid. He took out his satchel. They were safe from the peering lenses of cameras from now on.

He said in a hushed tone, “Remember to be quiet. We need the element of surprise to aid us, Mademoiselle. We need to take advantage of everything we can.”

She nodded and swiftly crossed the floor. She easily located the other staircase that led down to Siberia.

The temperature dropped with every step they took. While the freezing cold told Miranda that Peter was here, it was more than that. There was that same ominous presence that she’d encountered at Weatherly. It had invaded Fairfield Museum and was causing gooseflesh to rise upon Miranda’s skin surface. Miranda’s adrenalin flooded her system with a nervous energy. The flight-or-fight syndrome was building, urging Miranda to abandon her plans. She swallowed hard fighting back the overwhelming fear that evil had struck in her soul. She rationalized that it was another self-defense that the unholy used to stave off encounters that could result in their destruction. She needed to keep in mind the endgame. The image of Peter Adduné’s dead body impaled before her filled her thoughts. It was more than enough to keep her going.